Myra Keyes is a good example of a modern-day Renaissance woman. The 19-year-old Chicago-based singer-songwriter released her debut LP Flower in the Brick in February and it’s a criminally overlooked release in modern indie rock. She’s a talent to watch over, wonderful in her vocals and guitar and bass playing, especially in how young she is. Previously, Keyes had released the EP Girl Reimagined in 2022 and worked with the Portland-based indie punk band Rawt.
Keyes’ general style, like a lot of modern indie rock, has its inspirations from the 90s with lo-fi production and some sludgy grunge guitars. She had spoken about how one of her main inspirations is indie rock goddess Liz Phair, and it’s entirely apparent as her voice is occasionally a dead ringer for Phair’s earlier work like Exile in Guyville. I’d love for Keyes to open for Liz Phair at some point based on her enthusiasm for her music. However, she still manages to not come across as an imitator by adding heavy 90s alt-rock guitars and a great rhythm section (provided by Joe Mengis of Eels on drums) for many songs. Tracks like “Powder Blue” and “Clubs” have consistently enjoyable grooves that keep the songs moving at a fast tempo and never let up. This is even during the somewhat silly rockabilly-inspired “Skylight” that features my favorite bass performance from Keyes on the record.
Keyes’ vocals are also a strong point of the album, transitioning easily from a breathy lower register (“MME”) to more expressive songs that focus more on her lyrics and personal sentiments (“A Year Above Ground”). She has a captivating presence that keeps you interested in her, and the way she consistently uses the wide range of her vocals is impressive. At only 29 minutes and eight songs, the album still has a unique voice for each track, and I’m interested in hearing what Myra Keyes offers next. Flower in the Brick is a confident debut LP that suggests more solid work from her in the future.
Talking Heads is easily my favorite band. They were the first band that really got me into being a massive music geek, and I can’t imagine where I’d be today without them. So, when I heard A24 was planning a large-scale tribute album of Talking Heads’ iconic Stop Making Sense concert film with a different artist covering each song, I got excited but also quite cautious. I loved the band was getting more exposure to new audiences, but who would A24 pick to cover each song? Would they choose artists that honor Talking Heads’ material but still do their own spin on it to keep it fresh?
I’ll go out and say immediately that many of the musicians featured on the album aren’t necessarily ones that would be on my shortlist for a covers album, but that’s not at all a bad thing. Part of Talking Heads’ appeal is the way they respected and performed countless music styles—sometimes multiple at once. They created a unique sound of punk, funk, dance, and art rock and still had room for inspirations from world music or hip-hop made them so forward-thinking. Choosing artists of a variety of styles complements the multicultural palette Talking Heads had worked with.
(Okay, but if I had to choose who I’d want on the album, I’d choose LCD Soundsystem, St. Vincent, HAIM, and a more contemporary post-punk band like Squid or black midi… I can dream.)
However, there was still another big concern I had with the announcement: it was a covers album. A known, respected artist doing a cover of a song is a tricky balancing act. You must honor the source material, but not too close to where it just sounds like you’re doing karaoke. But, if you divert from the original too much and go somewhere too new, it makes your cover just seem like a pointless exercise and you won’t make fans of the original happy. It’s difficult, but it’s totally possible to accomplish this mix.
With that said, the easy standouts of the album were the ones that got this balancing act down the best. Paramore’s cover of “Burning Down the House” kills with Hayley Williams’ stage presence and irresistible vocal performance, and “Crosseyed and Painless” done by Chicano Batman and Money Mark captures the original’s relentless, nonstop energy. It’s hard to recapture the feeling of such a soulful, heartwarming song, but the version of “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” by BADBADNOTGOOD and Norah Jones gets damn close. I’m a fan of the former’s lush 70s soul inspirations and using that with Jones’ comforting presence just makes their cover feel like a warm hug in all the same ways the original did. And, if Talking Heads’ cover of “Take Me to the River” equally combined them with Al Green, then Lorde’s cover of the same song is a satisfying blend of both her sound and Talking Heads’.
Some of the other covers closer to the originals can depend on your tastes. I liked The National’s version of “Heaven” which works well with their atmospheric indie folk sound, and quite like some of Aaron Dessner’s produced work for that one super famous rich white and blonde woman who I won’t name*. (*Forgive me, Meredith.) The Linda Lindas and girl in red do acceptable versions of “Found a Job” and “Girlfriend is Better” respectively without changing much, and I enjoyed seeing an African group represented on the album through highlife band The Cavemen’s version of “What a Day That Was”.
The problem with many other covers is that they’re too different from the originals, and it makes them difficult to judge. I love “Psycho Killer” and I’m fine with Miley Cyrus covering it, but why do it as a Lady Gaga-style EDM song? “Thank You for Sending Me an Angel” isn’t one of my favorite Talking Heads songs, yet it’s hard to get behind Blondshell doing a slow burn grunge version of it (albeit with a pretty rad guitar solo at the end). Then there’s some of the out-there covers like DJ Tunez performing “Life During Wartime” as an afrobeats-inspired trap song or Kevin Abstract going as far away from “Once in a Lifetime” as possible.
None of these songs are necessarily bad in terms of their sound or how they changed the originals, but they’re hard to appreciate in contrast to the other songs that try hard to honor the spirit of the originals. It’s not to say some covers work despite being too close to the originals (i.e. Teezo Touchdown’s “Making Flippy Floppy” or Toro y Moi’s “Genius of Love”), but perhaps the album could have functioned better with more direction as opposed to letting the artists run completely free.
Everyone’s Getting Involved isn’t bad, despite what some more closed-minded Talking Heads fans may say. However, it’s difficult to appreciate based on how different each artist approaches the original material. It has enough good covers to make the experience worthwhile, even if it may also leave you scratching your head at points. Still, nothing here stains Talking Heads’ enduring legacy as one of the best bands of its time.
Brooklyn’s own indie rock band Razor Braids just released Big Wave, their sophomore LP after 2021’s “I Could Cry If You Want Me To”. The new album is of a concept record about the timeline of going through a breakup, and lyrically it’s very personal. It goes into the narrator’s (which could be any of the members of the band, or multiple writing from shared experiences) feelings about their insecurities, self-doubts, and feelings of anguish within themselves. The lyrics are one of the strong points of the band, being clear, relatable, and easy to identify with as a listener.
Musically, the band’s style has its inspirations in 90s indie and alternative rock. There are many obvious comparisons like the lo-fi sound of Liz Phair, some Mazzy Star-style touches of psychedelia, as well as heavy grungy guitars that occasionally pop up. The production and guitar work on the album is consistently good, with a hazy but dreamy atmosphere composing many of the songs. Lead vocalist Hollye Bynum gives a lot of great performances throughout, showing her singing as more confident than the band’s earlier singles like “Nashville”. The backing vocals (contributed by rhythm guitarist Jillian Karande) are just as strong, though some of the best sounding parts of the album were when both vocalists harmonized, like on “B26” and “Windy Gap”. It’s an element of the band’s sound that I wish they used more.
My favorite track is the lead single, “She”, which is an upbeat pop-rock song that easily has the breeziest and most danceable groove on the album (with the drums provided by former member Sid Nichols). The band’s irresistible energy and chemistry here shines through, accentuated by brief giggles by the band as the song closes. However, while “She” is a great single, it differs a bit from the rest of the album in terms of its accessibility and focus on a pop chorus. Not that this is a bad thing, as mellow and downbeat songs like “It Goes Quiet” and the title track are still strong because of the earnest performances and lyrics, and especially from the lush guitars (from lead guitarist Janie Peacock) in the second half of the latter.
Big Wave is mostly a storytelling album rather than one that’s song driven. There’re points where the tracks can feel more about expressing emotions rather than structure and rhythm. This is most apparent on “JR”, which seems to explode with intensity as a musical emotional breakdown in the second half, as psychedelic guitars bury the vocals before they come crashing down on themselves. The vulnerability given from Bynum’s performances helps make this seem rawer and more effective.
All the songs are good, and the album is easy to recommend to fans of modern indie rock that are more into lyrically driven music. It’s not perfect, as I think it could’ve used another good hook or two and better pacing. Still, the album ends on a bittersweet but hopeful note on “There’s No Sound”, and I think the band still has a lot of talent and potential to build on based on the more promising parts of the album.
Big Wave may end up just being a steppingstone for a band that’s still evolving, but it’s captivating enough to look deeper into it.
Today, San Diego rock act Embers releases To: The Moon, a 5-track EP that will get you on your feet, jamming out to anthemic melodies about mistakes, intrusive thoughts, and other relatable material. Sleeping with Sirens’ Kellin Quinn guests his notable vocals on the EP’s second track, “eating me alive,” giving this otherwise dark track another intense and beautiful layer.
Explains Embers of the EP: “’To: The Moon’ is a melting pot of my influences using inspiration from pop punk and emo to reflect on mental health struggles, toxic relationships, and emotional turbulence. A step forward from my last EP ‘EMO SZN’, ‘To: The Moon’ finds itself a more energetic place in my catalog.”
And he’s not wrong. The energy is on another level. Get your first listen to the Embers EP in its entirety below.
Recording the EP has been an amazing journey. On my first EP, I was going through such a hard time, and it reflects in the music. I’m so proud of the lyrical content and how therapeutic performing those songs is for me and my fans, from what I’ve been told. This second EP takes the basis of the sound of the first EP, but bumps up the energy x 100. The guitars are bigger and the lyrics are less desperate and stronger to match. I can’t wait for people to hear the new music live.
The song “Lines in the Sky”, which starts Cole Gallagher’s EP, The Confluence, has a soft sound. It makes you feel like you are at the beach, as he compares the person in his song to the sea. Emotions of excitement flow through the song, expressed through high notes. He is truly enjoying a fun time with this person at the sea.
As I contemplate more, I realize the sea is also a metaphor for his dreams being as vast as the sea when he is with this person, as they make him believe he can do anything he wishes. He is living in a world that is twisted, expressed through his voice. Deep and raspy, it captures emotions of anger, freedom, and pain, in a melody that flows smoothly and makes you feel like you releasing all of your emotions into the world. As he lets go of all his pain and anger, he finds that freedom is hard when you do not have the person you relied on to encourage you to see your dreams as vast as the sea.
As Gallagher sings the song “Stumbling in the Dark”, he goes through emotions of struggling to impress the person he is singing about. He believes he cannot live up to their expectations of how to act, and who to be. Despite feeling he cannot be his true self, he follows this person because he loves them too intensely to emotionally leave them. She is the only girl he will ever truly love. He is desperately searching for her so he can look into her eyes again. He is unsure how to show her that he cares about her forever and he hopes that her life is free of pain and worries, as he expresses by singing that he hopes the skies are blue for her.
During “Delilah”, the listener discovers the name of the person the lyrics to his EP has been flowing about. Delilah’s joy is his joy too, because her emotions are connected to how he feels. They are like a string, so when he or Delilah gets pulled or twisted a certain way, they are impacted by each other’s emotions. As expressed in his lyrics, his heart is open to her eyes, because he is open to looking deep into her soul and understanding life from her perspective. His heart will beat to her emotions and what she goes through in life.
In Cole’s song “Chatting Through Steal”, he struggles that his dreams have been packed up by people refusing to believe in him, and rejecting him. It is melancholic and contemplative, stirring pause in its listener.
In “Sugarland”, the melody intertwines as words enter this song, with emotions of helplessness. He wonders about what it would be like to see beyond the fields he lives in. Loneliness overwhelms him and he feels trapped in the fields. Hope fills his soul as he watches the bluebirds flying in the sky and “the flames rise up,” as articulated through these descriptive lyrics.
“The Ocarins of the Tennessee” starts with a slow, calming melody. As he is floating away, he continues to keep the attachment of this person whom he loves in his heart, vowing to never forget the sound of their voice. The sound of this person’s voice brings him both comfort and grief. He compares this person’s voice to the sounds of the sea because the sea is where he has had many memories with them. His heart is floating away with this person in his mind and away from this person in reality. At the end of this song, his high notes repeat in a steady flow in a pattern, capturing the emotions of being content with this person at the sea and the pain of losing them.
Experienced multi-genre artist Daniel Ellsworth brings all of his prior skills to the table, presenting his first independent project in a set of four LPs. The newly released WHAT is Ellsworth’s first fully self-produced LP and is the third in the set of I HAVE / NO CLUE / WHAT / I’M DOING. Contrary to that title, Ellsworth certainly seems to know what he’s doing, as the five new songs in WHAT display a mature musical sensibility with their clever arranging and the mixing of musical styles.
WHAT holds the listener’s hand via lyrics that tell a story, a diverse array of synths, and a clear progression of styles. Beginning with the welcoming “Lost In the Rhythm”, Ellsworth introduces a beat and whooshing synths worthy of any dance party. It’s feel-good and optimistic, in touch with the speaker’s initial meeting with the love interest.
“Blurry” heightens this euphoria, infusing its pop style with hip-hop influences, to evoke how the speaker is in complete awe of the lover. Panning synths in the catchy chorus create interest in the left and right ears, mimicking how it feels to have blurry vision in an auditory format.
“Flower Underground” flips the switch. Doubt sprouts in the speaker as the relationship with the lover takes a turn toward the uncertain. With indie-pop influences, this song has a myriad of synth timbres, creating an engaging collage of sound. The jazz piano solo hearkens to Ellsworth’s background in jazz piano, adding another new element to this LP.
Ellsworth draws from his experience in techno-pop in “Operator Emma”, as the speaker is in contact with the lover via sparse phone calls. Pleading for “an answer on the line”, Ellsworth’s voice soars into its highest range so far. The sweeping synths toward the end seem to hint at a hopeful conclusion for this complicated situation.
The final track, “I Believe In You”, is about the sun rising at the end of a long night. Circling back to indie-pop, Ellsworth’s voice has that lo-fi, old-time-radio vocal effect. There’s even word-painting when rising synths accompany the lyrics “surrounded by the sunlight”. The relationship has been repaired, and the music reflects that sense of relief and contentment that comes after a test of trust.
Daniel Ellsworth’s WHAT is a prime example of how to intermix musical genres to tell a story. After many collaborations with other artists—Daniel Ellsworth & The Great Lakes, Chaos Emeralds, and DARKMINDS—Ellsworth sets out on his own, carrying a vast scope of musical experience with him.
Niall Connolly has never shied away from his own artistry. In listening to his repertoire you’re unlikely to sense reluctance. Instead, the folk singer rushes headlong into his music, laying his soul bare for the world to witness. “In this house, if you wanna cry, you can cry,” he sings on his latest album, The Patience of Trees, out June 2. And with a shuddering breath, we believe him.
The Irish-born troubadour has been a steady presence in the New York City folk scene, telling his musical stories across the din of nondescript bars and Manhattan’s broad stages alike. At every Connolly gig audiences are ushered into his world of unflinching honesty and disarming resonance. Whether listening to him live or on recording, the listener is wrapped in a strange combination of isolation and warmth, a mix that leaves a profound effect: one of having been held and lonely at the same time. This is Connolly’s unique ability to transform his art into something capable of providing tangible comfort.
The album’s first single, “We Don’t Have to Talk About It”, approaches the topic of self-harm in this same manner. “I know you get tempted by the third rail late at night,” he sings, acknowledging and stripping the power away from one’s demons at the same time. The latest single, “It’s a Beautiful Life,” gives an unrelenting perspective of the struggles many of us endure and, ultimately, the love that attempts to pull us through. The song evokes the painful journey through mental health and offers a unique perspective of the collective’s ability to triumph by giving voice to our experiences.
“Out of the Light” feels like an offering at the altar of Leonard Cohen’s emotional legacy. Thoughtful and serene but also spare in its hints of loneliness as he observes “every kind of messy road that leads to love.” Similarly, “Orchids at the Supermarket” haunts like a Nick Drake ballad, making beauty out of brokenness. Yet despite the gentle presence of such ghosts, the presence of Connolly’s emotionality makes each song the kind of experience that only he can create.
The Patience of Trees is enriched by the presence of Connolly’s friends and collaborators, including Mick Flannery, Anna Tivel, E.W. Harris, Javier Mas, and Warren Malone. The arrangements of each track serve as an echo of their lyrical power, emphasizing the story at the center of each song. Expansively, the songs stretch out across the album to create a rich journey full of remarkable souls and powerful experiences. At once demanding and exquisitely comforting, The Patience of Trees takes us into our own depths and offers us solace.
“The clouds were forming question marks, like the sky was doubting me,” he sings in “A Cloud on the Summer Sun”. “I’ve got every right to be here, as much as everyone.” While his songs take us into the caverns of human struggle, likely to cause the sharp, stabbing breath of resonance as the days, weeks, years of tamping down our emotions burst to the surface, the underlying tenet of Connolly’s work is always hope. Aggressive fucking hope. No longer the lame figment to punk theology. His words and his music welcome us into a world where hope and kindness are the bravest of things. In his house, if we wanna cry, we can cry, but ultimately we will heal.
Tennessee-bred indie rock outfit Colony House – expertly comprised of artists Will and Caleb Chapman, Scott Mills, and Parke Cottrell – celebrates the release of their new full-length The Cannonballers today. Equal parts thrilling and entrancing, the album is a wild ride from the intro of the initial track “Landlocked Surf Rock” to the very last notes of “I’m Not Dyin’.” Chapman’s vocals are smooth, the lyrics are relatable, and the indie rock edge is cut slightly with high production quality.
Admits the band: “We tried to stay away from getting stuck on a theme, but I think being back home for such an extended period of time after traveling so hard for the last ten years informed a lot about this album.”
In fact, their home base served as the main inspiration for the album. Says frontman Caleb Chapman: “We got to see the seasons change and experience our home again for the first time in a long time. I think I was falling back in love with Tennessee, and I started revisiting some old memories and old relationships in my head that pertained to certain geographical locations as well as just emotional places I had spent my most formative years.”
We suggest melting into tracks like “One of Those Days” and “Don’t Give Up on Me” when in a contemplative mood, and turning up the volume on tracks like “Landlocked Surf Rock” and the beach-worthy title track.
Los Angeles-based Sara Niemiętz‘s sound has evolved over time, each new release intrinsically captivating. Today, the talented singer/songwriter releases her fourth full-length, an audible treat titled Superman. Explains Sara of the project: “This album is about vulnerability and empowerment. It’s about speaking your piece, shaking off the past, and finding the superhero inside.”
And she’s not messing around. We start off with the sultry, confident track “Locks,” which serves as a ballbuster of an introduction to this particular collection of music. “I Want You” continues on theme, leading with a bass riff that perfectly frames and encourages the rock anthem that follows. Lines like “baby, I’m your type” reinforce the confidence that Niemiętz has built her career around. It’s a brand of badass that we can really rally behind.
Fourth track “Lovely Lies” begins with pure romance, a Spanish-style guitar taking just slightly off-center stage — to the side of the commanding vocals. Bongos seep into the mix, solidifying a new energy to this piece of the album. In a very cohesive manner, “Fill Me Up” begins slowly, reminiscent of a slightly more soulful Norah Jones, in all honesty.
“Four Walls” is a beautiful track that speaks to the weight of the pandemic and our collective stresses over the past several years. The soundscape feels organic, with gorgeous sound effects that make this song perfect for the end of an invigorating yoga practice. While “Come to Me” continues at a similar clip, “Names” drops with so much attitude you almost can’t handle it. “Keep an Eye” goes back to a more meandering pace, with a speed up – and captivating instrumental solos – later in the track.
“GOODx3” explores the silver linings to breakups, the things you learn, and the brightness that can shine through the “cracks.” It’s one of our favorites on the album, both regarding the instrumental composition and the lively vocals. The title track explores the many facets a person can have, even if they seem one-dimensional in your life’s story. Sara sings of the support that she can provide in love. “Every Light” continues in a similar vein, as she expresses her adoration for a romantic interest.
“Words” comes in heavier than its predecessors, a different level of rock with an added layer of psychedelic ambiance. The album ends with “The Dimming,” a self-reflective assessment that will ring very highly relatable for many. A lesson in perspective, it is a graceful ending to an album we truly enjoyed from beginning to end.
